


hand me a towel i'm dirty dancing (by myself)

by inmyfashion



Series: action of fiction [1]
Category: Pitch (TV 2016)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Cunnilingus, F/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 06:09:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11891664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inmyfashion/pseuds/inmyfashion
Summary: Ginny catches Mike in the shower.





	hand me a towel i'm dirty dancing (by myself)

Ginny shouldn't be there. She knows she should turn around and walk away, but between the visual, the sounds, and the wetness soaking her panties, she might as well be bolted to the floor.

She doesn't know how she ended up there, transfixed by Mike Lawson, alone in the shower, hand wrapped around the most magnificent cock she's ever seen in real life.

He's got one hand pressed against the tile while the other strokes his dick in a steady, unrelenting pace. He squeezes the base between every few strokes, a litany of groans and curses pour out of his mouth when he does.

The head of his cock is so full and red and twitches beneath his ministrations.

Ginny's mouth is dry and her pulse pounds in her ears. She should go; instead, she wiggles her hand between her Nike tights and her underwear and flicks at her throbbing clit in time with Mike's strokes.

She bites her lip as her eyes take in the way his thighs flex, how his ass draws up with harder downward strokes, how the hand against the wall balls into a fist as he closes his length in a tight grip.

Ginny tries to hold in a whine as her hand speeds up with his. The echoes of _'fuck'_ and _'goddamn it so fucking tight'_ ring out through the tiled room and Ginny has to lean against the wall for support as she moves her fingers faster.

" _Ginny_!" Mike shouts and Ginny's head snaps to attention, imagining she's been caught, but his eyes are closed and he's coming all over his hand and against his stomach.

And Ginny can't fucking breathe.

\--

She avoids him for three solid days. It's a miracle of timing, and the fact that it isn't her start, but letting his phone calls ring through to her voicemail stings a little.

She can't think about him, or hear his voice, or see him in her peripheral without dampness pooling in her panties, without seeing the image that is basically burned into her memory forever of him coming—and saying her name when he does.

They win with one run against the Mariners, in a game that shouldn't have been close at all. Ginny leaves the dug out first, hell bent on avoiding Mike until she can't—which at its latest would be tomorrow—when she starts against the Mariners in the second game of the series.

She moves through her post-game ritual fast, not wanting to get stopped on the way out by anyone. She just wants to get back to her place and press the tiny egg vibrator that Evelyn beamingly gifted to her against her clit until her mind whites out.

She double checks all her gear and shoulders her backpack ready to go. When she opens her door, her stomach drops and she nearly topples over her feet.

Mike leans against the wall across from her room, bag by his feet, arms crossed over his magnificent, lumberjack-plaid-clad chest, and stares her down.

Neither of them speak for a moment until Ginny nods. "Hey."

"Where are you rushing off to, rookie?" Mike asks in lieu of a greeting.

She points a thumb over her shoulder. "Just home. Nowhere special. And I'm not still a rookie, Mike." Though she knows that won't matter to him. Even two years into the team, even with the months of injury and rehab, and calling up 5 new rookies, she's still his rookie.

He nods. "You've practically run out of here the past few nights. And you haven't been in the gym in the mornings, but Buck says you've been in super early. Like you're trying to avoid someone."

Ginny lets out an uncomfortable laugh and hitches her bag higher on her shoulder. "No, no. Of course not. Just trying to change up my routine. It was getting kind of stagnant. Any way, you must be exhausted. That was a hard game. I'll—"

"Ginny."

And goddamnit that one word makes her shiver and her thighs clench. He steps closer to her, his eyebrows furrowed together. "What'd I do? Why are you ignoring me? And don't say something stupid, like you're not. You are. You're even ignoring my phone calls, but in a polite enough way where I could possibly think you just missed me, not that you're actively ignoring me."

Ginny worries her bottom lip with her teeth and swallows hard. She can't tell him the real reason. That's a no-go, but maybe...

"I just think...you know sometimes people talk and our teammates seem to think—"

"Are you really trying to lie to me right now?" he asks and takes a step closer. He looks down the hallway and nods to her room. "Inside, Baker."

Ginny takes a step back and waits for him to enter before she closes the door, and slides her bag off her shoulder. She presses her back against the door and waits.

"The truth, Baker. Or so help me God, I will use whatever method I need to in order to get it out of you."

The timbre of his voice lowers at the end of the sentence and Ginny barely manages not to clench her thighs together.

She shakes her head and watches him draw closer. She backed herself into this corner, so to speak, quite literally. She should've known that Mike would notice her avoidance.

"Start talking," he bites out and the shiver that takes over her body is unavoidable.

He frowns and lifts an eyebrow.

She's utterly doomed.

"Ginny," he growls and she puts up a hand to stop his advance.

"Please stop and stop saying my name like that."

"Like what?" he questions.

She narrows her eyes and points a finger at him. "You know exactly how. I heard it like that the other night, too, and—"

"What?" Mike interrupts. "The other night when?"

"Fuck," she breathes out. She puts her hands over her eyes and says it fast. "The other night. I was here. You were in the shower, and I should've left, I really should've just fucking left, but I stayed and I watched and now I can hardly look at you without thinking about your cock or you saying my name as you come."

She drops her hands but still has her eyes closed. She can only hear her breath rushing in and out of her, and her heart thrums loudly is in her ears.

She feels his warmth before she actually physically feels him. He places his hands on her hips and lowers his forehead to hers, the errant tickle of his beard sets off sparks throughout her body.

"Open your eyes, Gin," he says in a low voice, a tickle of breath against her lips.

She shakes her head and he pulls his forehead away and gives her hips a squeeze. "Open them."

Her eyes snap open the instant he presses his hips into hers and she can feel him hard against her hip. Christ, he feels so big against her.

She looks up into his face; his pupils are so dilated and his face is ruddy from his cheeks to his hairline. "You've been avoiding me because you saw me jacking off and I said your name when I came," he restates and it's not a question, more a confirmation.

But Ginny nods anyway.

"What'd you do while you watched?" Mike asks, tilts his hips and ruts against her. The heavy fabric of his jeans is so rough through the light fabric of her leggings.

He moves his hands up her body; his fingers tease at the edge of her leggings before he sends his rough fingers up the smooth expanse of her stomach. He cups her breasts roughly when his hands reach them. He drags his blunt nails over her nipples through her thin sports bra, and she gasps at the feeling.

"Ginny," he breathes into her ear then nips at the side of her neck. "What did you do? Tell me? Did you get yourself off while you watched me?"

Ginny just nods as she tries to drag air into her lungs.

"How?" he demands. "Show me." He backs away from her and she lets out a growl. Her hands reach for him, but he shakes his head and takes another step back. "I want to see what you did, Gin."

He wheels her chair over and takes a seat. He unfastens his belt and button fly and strokes a hand over his boxer brief clad dick.

Ginny pulls her leggings down in a hurry and steps out of them.

"Fucking hell, you're soaked," Mike breathes, his eyes focused between her legs. He licks his lips and rolls his— _her_ —chair a little closer. "Take 'em off, babe."

She shimmies her hips a little more than necessary and tosses them in his direction. He catches them with minimal effort. She rips her shirt and bra off, too, so she's standing before him gloriously naked, miles of taut, golden brown skin on display.

She sends one hand between her legs to play with her clit the way she had when she saw Mike that night. Her whole body quakes as she strokes, her fantasy sitting two feet away.

His attention is caught on the hand that plays with her pussy. He isn't touching himself, and Ginny wants him to—needs him to.

"Will you stroke your cock for me?" she asks in a tentative voice, and the grin that breaks across his face tells her it's just what he wanted.

Mike leans back in the chair— _her chair_ —that she'll never be able to look at again—and takes his cock in hand.

Ginny's mouth drops open again—he's even bigger than he seemed before. Moderately long, but thick, my god so thick, she wants to feel the heft of him against her tongue.

"God, Mike," she groans as she sends two fingers into her wet heat, keeping time with the pace of his strokes.

"You're so wet against your thighs Gin, fucking Christ you smell good, too." Mike strokes and squeezes his dick, his breathing labored as his eyes sweep over her body. "Turn around, need to see that perfect ass."

Ginny turns without hesitation and bends at the waist. She presses a hand against the door while the other still moves in her cunt, getting faster as she gets closer.

"Fuck— _fuck_ ," Mike breathes out. She hears the chair squeak and roll away and she looks over her shoulder to see Mike on his knees behind her. "I need to fucking taste you, Ginny. Please?"

She nods and before she can complete the motion, Mike's tongue is teasing at her folds. He keeps her fingers in place, his thumb, and forefinger circle her wrist and set a rhythm he likes. He licks at her between her fingers, pulls back and licks and sucks her inner pussy lips. His beard tickles over her clit that begs to for attention.

She can't let go of the door and still stand, he has her other hand completely occupied, which leaves her no choice but to send her hips back and fuck his face while he relentlessly devours her with his mouth.

He traces shapes and patterns over her lips, keeps dipping his tongue into her dripping heat until she yells at him. "Suck my clit, Mike. Do it!"

He pulls her fingers from her cunt and lets go of her wrist. As soon as he closes his mouth around the throbbing, aching bundle of nerves, Ginny is coming harder than she ever has before. She comes in waves because Mike doesn't let up the pressure on her clit. He sucks until she falls forward, the door and Mike catching her.

He nips at her ass and kisses up her back as he stands with a groan. When his lips reach the nape of her neck, he cords his fingers through her hair and pulls her head back gently. "Can I fuck you like this?"

"I want to put my mouth on you," she replies and he moves her head around so he can kiss her. He's covered in her, his beard glistens and smears the bottom of her face, but fuck it's so hot.

"Next time, I need to feel your cunt squeeze around my dick, Gin. Please."

She nods and he kisses her rough once more before he lets her go. Ginny looks over her shoulder as he strips in an efficient, breakneck speed. He rummages in his discarded jeans for a condom that he tears open and sheaths himself with in a hurry.

He takes her hair in his hand again, the arch in her back pushes her hips back in perfect alignment with his length. He takes his time and pushes his dick in slowly.

"So tight, Gin. You feel so fucking good on my dick."

She gasps as he stretches her. She feels full, so full, way more than with any other man or toy to date.

He stays still when he bottoms out, his free hand glides across her ass. He smacks her right buttcheek and groans when she tightens around him. "Fuck Gin, you like that, huh? Tell me what else you like. You want me to pull your hair tighter? Smack your ass harder? Play with your clit while I fuck you?"

"Yes," she groans and sends her hips back for another smack which Mike obliges.

He sets a hard, fast rhythm. The smack of his hand and his hips against her ass pepper the grunts and sighs and begging words that come here and there.

Her breath grows shallow and she tilts just a bit forward, enough to send him even further into her heat and that's all it takes for Mike's fine edge of restraint to totally disappear.

He fucks her without rhythm, his hands moving from her hair and ass to her hips to help drive her back into him.

"Mike," she screams, and she shouldn't, who knows who's still around, but it's too late. She's coming hard and her pussy's vice grip on Mike's cock makes him come moments after her, his body slumping forward.

They're both slick with sweat, and Mike doesn't dislodge himself from her as he brings her upright and presses her against the door.

He slides two fingers around to her clit and gently coaxes another orgasm from her. She turns her head and bites his neck when she comes and _goddamn_ —they have to do this again, and soon.

He slowly dislodges himself from her body and groans as a pain shoots up his back.

"You okay?" she asks in a tentative voice.

He nods and leans forward to brush his lips over hers. "I just need a bed, and more hours between your legs is all."

Ginny ducks her head and looks up through her eyelashes coyly. "We can probably arrange that."

"Damn right, babe."

_FIN_


End file.
